


Faces from the past

by KingsNeverDie100



Series: Reunions [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Brotherhood Without Banners - Freeform, F/M, Romance, sister bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 11:38:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8370850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingsNeverDie100/pseuds/KingsNeverDie100
Summary: Sansa and Arya have some visitors at Winterfell. One who they thought was dead.





	

Sansa and her sister were sitting in front of the fire place in her room, enjoying the evening together. Arya had been back in Winterfell for a week now, and neither of the three siblings liked to leave the others’ presence for too long, not when they had been apart for such a long time. Unfortunately Jon had some kingly business to deal with this evening and could not join them.

After much arguing, both girls had finally managed to make him agree to take the lord’s chamber as his bedroom. He was the king after all. It wouldn’t do if he slept in that small room that used to be his. Arya and Sansa had taken their old rooms for now. Perhaps they’d find other ones later, perhaps they wouldn’t.

“I like your hair this way,” Sansa complimented her sister. It reached her shoulders, shorter than a lady’s hair ought to be, but Arya had never been much of a lady, and it suited her well.

“Thank you,” Arya stroked it absentmindedly. “I was always jealous of your hair, you know. Yours and mother’s. It was prettier than mine, and you always had such nice braids.” Arya had never been one to care much for girly things like that, but there were times when she was younger when she wished she could be more feminine, like her sister.

“I’m jealous of you now,” Sansa said. “With your sword fighting and the skills you’ve learned on your travels.”

Arya was surprised. Never had she thought that her sister- perfect Sansa Stark- would ever be jealous of her. “You’ve learned some skills too.”

Sansa swallowed and looked into the fire. “Yes, but they’re not all good.”

“Neither are mine,” Arya assured her. “Mother would faint if she found out some of the things I’ve learned.”

They both laughed at that. If only their parents could see them now. Would they be mostly proud or mostly horrified?

Arya thought for a minute. “You know, if you want to, I could teach you to sword fight?” She framed it as a question so Sansa could easily say no if she didn’t want to.

But Arya was surprised once again to see her face light up. “You would really do that?”

“Sure. I mean, I can’t promise you’ll be as good as me, but you were always better than me at everything that mattered, so I need to have something that I can do better than you.”

Sansa smiled brightly. “I would love it if you taught me. Even if I won’t be as skilled as you, any bit of knowledge would be good. We live in dangerous times. You never know when I might need it.

Arya nodded and they sunk in to silence once more. The sun had set a while ago, leaving the castle grounds in darkness, but it wasn’t very late. The sun always set early in the north, but never before as early as this. It was a sure sign that winter was truly here. Another sign was that it was snowing lightly outside the window. The weather would get worse soon. Neither Sansa nor Arya remembered ever experiencing a winter before, but they had been told what it was like. Once the real cold set in, they would be glad to be back in Winterfell, inside a castle with furs and fireplaces to warm them.

There was a knock on the door, and Sansa bid them to enter. It was a servant girl.

“Lady Stark, Lady Arya. I apologize for interrupting, but I have news for you.”

“What is it, Gwin?” Sansa asked her.

“I was supposed to tell this to the king, but he is occupied in a meeting at the moment and asked not to be disturbed, so I thought I’d tell you instead, my lady. I wasn’t sure it could wait.” She paused waiting for a confirmation. Sansa nodded and bid her to continue. “There are people outside the gates, my lady, asking to see the Stark heir. They claim to be the Brotherhood without banners.”

 _Clang_. Arya dropped her mug on the stone floor.

“Thank you, Gwin. I shall handle it in a moment,” the older sister dismissed the servant girl. Once she was gone she turned to Arya. “Are you alright?”

Arya’s took deep breaths. “I told you about when I met the Brotherhood, didn’t I?”

Sansa nodded. Arya had told how she and her friends had been captured and how they had later sold one of said friends to a red priestess. Arya had managed to escape, but was captured again by someone else. Sansa had listened very carefully to that story. Partially because she was concerned about what her sister had gone through, and partially because of the involvement of one Sandor Clegane.

Sansa had never tried to define her feelings for the big man. There had been so much going on her life that she hadn’t had the time to do so. She knew she had feelings for him, but the nature of those feelings she was unsure of. They might have been romantic, or might have become so over time, or they might just be feelings of gratitude. Gratitude for trying to protect her in King’s Landing, and later for taking care of her sister.

Arya kept talking. “I don’t want them within our walls. I don’t trust them one bit.”

“We should at least find out what they want,” Sansa argued, ever the diplomatic one.

“They probably want gold, or soldiers,” Arya huffed. “I say, we don’t give them a thing. I say we don’t even let them come inside the gates. Let them stay out there and freeze to death. It would serve them right.”

Sansa was much less shocked over her sister’s words than she would have been a few years ago. But she was the lady of the keep now. If they wanted to establish their hold on the North again, the Starks had to show the world they were still who they remembered them as: noble and strong. Of course Sansa disliked them on principle because of what they had put her sister through, but when you were in a position of power you sometimes had to do thing you didn’t want to. The Brotherhood without banners were not their enemies. Not yet.

“They don’t have to come inside our gates,” she said calmly. She stood up, donned a fur lined cloak and headed towards the battlement overlooking the main gate. Arya followed her with hurried steps, huffing and swearing under her breath.

The wind outside was cold, and it got colder the higher they climbed, but the Starks had the ice of the North in their veins, and cold did not bite as hard at them as it did other people.

The girls approached Captain Raynar, who was currently in charge of the military forces at Winterfell.

“What’s going on, Captain?” she asked. She already knew, but perhaps he had a little more information than Gwin had provided.

The captain looked at her hesitantly. “The Brotherhood without banners are outside the gates, my lady. They have not demanded entrance yet, but they want to speak with the Stark heir.” So apparently Gwin really had told all there was to tell. “Lady Stark, perhaps we should send for the king?”

Sansa’s eyes turned sharp, and so did Arya’s. Jon might be king and rule over the people, but Sansa ruled over the castle, and she did not appreciate being undermined in this way. If someone wanted to enter her family home they would have to go through her.

“I assure you, Captain Raynar, there is no need to fetch my brother. I am fully capable of handling the situation. If it turns out to be more than I can handle, I am sure my sister would be glad to help me.” Arya but a hand on her sword handle to show her agreement to the statement.

Raynay was still hesitant, but bowed his head and backed away. “As you wish, Lady Stark.”

Sansa walked forward, Arya half a step behind her. When she looked over the wall, she could see a large group of men down below. Some had horses but most were on foot. Some torches were lit, but it was still too dark and too far down to make out any faces.

“Who goes there?” she called out.

“The Brotherhood without banners,” a voice answered her.

“And who speaks for them?”

A minute passed before the answer came. “Beric Dondarrion. And who might be the lady I have the honour of speaking to?”

Sansa looked back at her sister. “Is that really him?” she asked.

Arya shrugged a little. “It sound like him. I’m not surprised he’s still alive.” She had told Sansa of his repeated resurrections thanks to the red priest. “Are you going to tell him who you really are?”

“I don’t see a reason not to.” He had asked to speak to the Stark heir after all. Jon might have a higher status than her now, but he still carried the name Snow. That made Sansa the eldest living heir to the Stark name and the representative of her house. She called out into the darkness, “I am Sansa of House Stark. I hear you wish to speak to me.”

“I do, Lady Stark. Might you allow me to enter your keep?”

“No, she bloody won’t!” Arya shouted down before Sansa could reply.

“Arya!” she scolded, sounding more like her mother than she meant to.

Sansa had to make up her mind quickly. There was no way she could let all of them in at the moment, even if she had more men than they did. She couldn’t ask him to enter alone, since that would be too suspicious.

“You and two of your men may enter, lord Dondarrion, but no more than that.”

“As you wish, my lady.” She could hear the smile in Beric’s voice, but she couldn’t tell if he was happy about her letting them in, or if he was laughing at Arya’s outburst.

She quickly made her way down to ground level, Arya once again on her tail.

Captain Raynar followed her as well. “My lady, are you sure this is wise? Shouldn’t we consult the king?”

“I already told you, Captain, I believe I can handle this situation. If it ends badly I will take full responsibility, but until then I would appreciate it if you obeyed me as a Captain of the guards ought to obey the lady of the keep.” That actually made Arya smile through her otherwise stormy expression.

The captain stood in shock at having been put down in such a way for a second, before picking up his feet and following again. “Very well, Lady Stark,” he gave in with a sigh. Sansa hoped he would stop fussing now and trust in her actions, or at least let her make her own decisions without protesting every two seconds. She didn’t know if this would be easier or harder if Jon was actually with them.

Two soldiers had gone outside to fetch the three men. They were just entering the courtyard as Sansa and Arya reached it as well. She recognized Beric Dondarrion, even though he had changed since the time she last saw him in King’s Landing. The second man had red hair and beard and though he smiled, he looked very tired. Sansa didn’t know who this man was.

The third man she recognized easily. He stood taller than them both. His beard was a bit fuller since last she’d seen him and he no longer wore his armour, but he was no less impressive.

 _Oh Gods_ , she thought. He was looking right at her, and she couldn’t look away.

“I’m glad to see you’re alright, little lady,” Beric addressed her sister. “We were worried about you.”

“You had a funny way of showing it,” Arya spat. “What do you want, Dondarrion?”

He chuckled. “I see your manners are still the same. Your spirit is strong, no matter the environment, it would seem. As for what I want, I was hoping to speak to your sister or the new king of the North. Or both, would be ideal.”

Sansa was still looking at the man behind him, but now she had to tear her eyes away. _Not now, not now, later, not now_ , she kept chanting in her head. The promise of later was the only thing that could keep her focused on the now.

“Our brother is occupied at the moment, I’m afraid. If you will follow me, we may discuss business in my solar.”

She turned around so she wouldn’t have to look at him. She wanted to look at him, but she couldn’t right now.

She and Arya walked a few yards ahead, then Beric and the others followed, escorted by six guards and the captain.

“Did you see who is with them?” Arya hissed in a low voice so they wouldn’t hear her. “I thought for sure he was dead. I can’t believe he joined up with them, after what happened in that cave.”

Sansa remembered what Arya had told her. She did not like that part of the story: the part where Sandor Clegane had to battle against a man with a flaming sword. That just seemed unfair on several layers.

“Please don’t leave me to deal with them alone, Arya,” she asked. She was afraid that her sister’s negative feelings towards the tallest man in the group would cause her to run off. In any other situation, Sansa believed she could handle it herself, but right now she needed her sister’s support.

Arya had also believed she could handle it herself, and looked at her strangely. “If you’re afraid to be alone with them, the guards will stay. I’m not sure how much use I would be.”

“I’m not afraid of them,” she explained. “I just need you there to keep me focused.” She had not yet told Arya of the strange bond she had formed with Sandor in King’s Landing. She did not think that her sister would be happy about it, so she’d kept it to herself for now. Therefore, Arya had no explanation as to why she would need help to be kept focused, but nodded anyway.

They reached her solar. Sansa sat behind her desk with Arya standing beside her, acting like an anchor. The three men were in front of them with the six guards lining up against the wall and Captain Raynar standing in front of the door. Sansa thought for a second how seven soldiers would not be enough if Sandor decided to attack. But then again, he was not the reasons for the guards to be there. Sansa trusted him with her life, even if others could not see why.

“What is your business here?” she asked. No reason to beat around the bush.

Apparently Beric felt the same. “We wish to join you, my lady. You and your army.”

“Why”?

“Your father was a noble man,” he raised a hand in a sweeping gesture, as if the room they stood in represented their father. “I fought for him once. Now I wish to fight for you.”

“I will ask again: why? My father is dead, and the Brotherhood without banners have no connections to House Stark.”

Beric looked amused. Like he was speaking to a very young person. Arya had seen that look before. She didn’t like it and neither did Sansa. It felt demeaning.

“We have been lordless for a long time now, because it has been to our benefit. There is a war coming, my lady, you must know this. When that war comes, the Brotherhood wants to make sure they are fighting for the right side.”

“You mean the side which benefits you?” Arya asked sharply.

“It would benefit us all, little lady,” he turned his eye to her. “You need all the men you can get, and we need a good cause it fight for.”

“And a safe place to bunker down come winter?” Sansa asked, even though she already knew the answer.

“And that,” Dondarrion admitted.

“What, your red god can’t protect you from cold, priest?” Arya directed the question to the man Sansa didn’t know the name of. “Some fire god he is.”

The man chuckled. “The lord of light can do many things, my lady, as you have seen yourself, but I’d rather not test him on this.”

Beric stood, waiting for her answer. As much as Sansa wanted to make this decision on her own, she felt she had to involve Jon as well. This was a military matter, and that was more his department. If Arya could put aside her anger for a moment and look at it from a rational point of view, she would be involved in making the decision as well. Sansa wanted all three of them to sit down and talk it through as a family, but Jon would not be available tonight.

“You and your men will be allowed to make an encampment outside our walls. I suggest you stay on the south side, as it is the least windy. Either that or you could travel to Wintertown and stay there for the night. At some point tomorrow you will be called upon and I, my brother and my sister will tell you our decision. You will have to accept it no matter the outcome. If this does not suit you, you may take your leave from Stark lands right now and seek another alliance.”

She hoped she had sounded as commanding as she was trying to. When her father had given an order, people obeyed. When her mother had given an order, people obeyed. She was trying to be like them, and she hoped she succeeded.

Beric bowed his head a little bit. Enough to show respect, but not enough to show submission. “I accept your terms, my lady. You will find me and my men outside your walls, eagerly awaiting your verdict.” He began to move towards the door and the others followed.

“I wish to have a word with Sandor Clegane,” she said quickly, before she lost her nerve.

It seemed everyone in the room froze. Arya looked at her as if she had lost her mind. Beric slowly turned around.

“Might I inquire as to why, my lady?”

“You may not. Now I ask you leave us alone.” She was still the one with the highest status in this room, and she did not have to give him a reason to anything.

He gave another small nod and with the priest in tow he left the room, two of the guards escorting them.

“I ask _all of you_ to leave us alone,” she asked the remaining people.

Arya turned to her sharply. “Are you insane, sis? Why would you want to be alone with him?” Sansa was under the impression that Arya and Sandor had formed some sort of truce whilst on their journey together, but apparently it was not enough to trust him alone in her sister’s presence.

“It’s alright, Arya, I know what I’m doing.” She leaned in to whisper in the younger girl’s ear, “You can stand outside the door if you want to. I just want to talk to him, and he’ll never do that if you’re here.”

Arya glared at her, the way she used to when Sansa called her Horseface, but Sansa kept her head high and a confident expression on her face. After about a minute, Arya gave in.

“Fine,” she said with clenched teeth, “but I want you to scream if anything happens that you don’t want to.”

Sansa gave her a quick hug before she left, taking the remaining guards with her.

Now they were alone.

He was standing with his back to her, so Sansa walked around him until she could see his face. Before, when she had been in conversation with Beric, his eyes were on her constantly, but now he only looked at the floor.

“I have only seen you afraid once before, but never did I imagine that you would fear me. Usually it was the other way around.” Sansa thought that teasing him would pull his eyes away from the ground, but they remained there.

She reached out a hand, and stopped right before the tip of her fingers touched his chin.

“Look at me,” she whispered softly. His head lifted a little bit, but he still looked over her shoulder. “Why won’t you look at me?”

He swallowed. “Because I failed you,” he rasped.

“Failed me how?”

“I couldn’t protect you.”

Sansa wasn’t sure what to say. Of all the emotions she had counted on from him, guilt-ridden wasn’t one of them. “You did the best you could, but the place we were in… no one was safe in King’s Landing. That is way you left, wasn’t it?”

He closed his eyes. “I should have taken you with me. I should have made you go.”

Sansa shook her head. “I should have come with you. It was my choice to stay and I regretted it. Once I realized my mistake, it was already too late.” Now she put her whole hand on his burnt cheek. He leaned in to it and nuzzled her wrist, but still wouldn’t open his eyes.

“Please little bird, please forgive me.” Tears were running down his face and his shoulders were shaking.

“There is nothing to forgive.” Sansa stepped closer, now standing chest to chest with him. He felt warm and solid and she wanted to be buried in his arms. Right at that moment, she knew what kind of feelings she had for him, as clear as day. “You are here now. That is all that matters. We are here together, as it should be.”

She pulled his head closer, leaning it down so his forehead was against hers. Her touch was still light, so he had the option to pull away if he wished it. He didn’t pull away.

“Little bird, what are you doing? I’m not worthy to kiss your feet. You should hang me from the castle wall to make an example of me if you’re smart.”

“It’s not my feet I want you to kiss.”

Their lips met softly, like the kisses in the songs Sansa used to love. She smiles into the kiss, thinking it ironic that Sandor Clegane of all people had turned out to be the knight she had dreamt of when she was younger. Her one hand rested on the burnt side of his face, and the other over his strong heart.

Once again, he did not pull away, but it took some time before he put his large hands around her waist. Sansa could feel both their hearts beating rapidly in their chests. He moved carefully, like he was afraid she might break if he squeezed her too hard.

 _That’s alright_ , Sansa thought, _we have plenty of time_.

A lot of people would be angry for this. Arya, Jon, the lords.

Despite knowing this, Sansa didn’t care one bit. This is what she wanted. Just for once she would think of herself first. If she could have just one thing, this would be it. It might be selfish, but for so long she had been denied what she wanted.

No more.


End file.
